You Say You Want a Revolution

Prise_de_la_Bastille

Storming of the Bastille, by Jean-Pierre Houel – Bibliotheque nationale de France

One of the things that has been striking about the campaign rhetoric of at least some of our U.S. presidential candidates and their followers is the language of revolution. I was listening to a call-in show today where a supporter of one of the Republican candidates made the claim “we are the revolution” and “you can’t stop the revolution.” I’ve heard similar language with at least one of the Democratic candidates as well.

I get it. We have a political system that to all appearances is grid-locked most of the time. And this is the danger of dysfunctional political systems. They encourage the frustrations of people who decide finally that the only solution is revolution. It’s a system where there are people who just feel closed out and not heard. Some of the candidates are saying out loud and very publicly the things people have wanted to say and feel have not been heard in our national discourse.

I’m with the Beatles on this one. In the song “Revolution” they say “don’t you know that you can count me out.” I don’t want saviors, strong men, or revolutionaries. Actually, what I want are “good politicians”, in the best sense of those two words. I want people who are skillful in serving the polis, who have a sense of what government can and can’t do for the public good, and are pursuing the best solutions not simply for one portion of the polis, but for the various groups of people who lay claim to the title of “citizen” of this land, with all its rights and responsibilities. I also want people who are not only skillful but good in the sense that they strive for an integrity about their lives, where their walk and talk match up, at least as much as it does for most of us.

I don’t want a revolution. Most revolutions are more destructive than constructive. Our nation’s beginnings may have been one of those rare shining moments, and even then it was violent,  it was oppressive to the native peoples who we displaced, and exploitative of the Africans we forcibly brought here and declared three-fifths of a person in our founding documents. Then a bit over 80 years later, we underwent a second revolution. We called it a “Civil” War. An estimated 620,000 men died in this conflict. Even when revolutions are not violent, they often end up dismantling inefficient but functioning systems for even less functional ones.

The worst outcome is when the vacuum of power in political systems becomes so great that only a strong man can fill it and tyranny rules. In the early nineteenth century, that was Napolean. In the twentieth century, it was Stalin, Hitler, and Mao (the three accounted for over 100 million deaths).

Besides, all this talk about revolutions and quests for strong men and saviors feels to me like it gives politics an inordinate place in our lives. There are so many other important structures to life from neighborhood associations, to trade groups, to religious bodies, to volunteer organizations, to local schools and parents groups, to businesses and groups of artisans and artists and their benefactors. Just how much of our own agency do we really want to give the political powers? Yes, good government provides for liberty and justice for all, for interstate commerce, for defense of our borders, and for the care of those that our private organizations and local structures can’t care for (I realize there is a big discussion here about how much ought government, and our taxes, do here). Important stuff indisputably, but not everything.

There is one place I do want reform. It is electoral reform. This concerns both how districts are shaped, which now is a very partisan activity which means most politicians never represent a true cross-section of the American people. And it concerns how elections are funded. Because of court rulings, I suspect this would take a constitutional amendment. But we have a system that typically allows the rich special access to the people who represent us all. So much of what is broken in our system can be attributed to these things. It’s not sexy, and its not easy to fix this. It will take a long and determined effort.

But count me out of your revolution. To be honest, I’m praying it won’t succeed. And if it doesn’t, maybe it will make us look at all the things we can do in our own neighborhoods, city councils, school boards (all politics is ultimately local), and through all the other social institutions that make up our communities and society. Maybe then we will realize that the work of healing our national discords is our work that cannot be given away to our political leaders.

Wouldn’t that be great?

 

Review: Christians and the Common Good

Christians and the Common GoodChristians and the Common GoodCharles E. Gutenson. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2011.

Summary: Explores what the teaching of scripture says about God’s intentions for how we live together and the implications of this for public policy.

The title of this book may be perplexing to some for different reasons. For some, their experience is one of Christians seeking their own good, or simply their own idea of the good, which smacks of privilege. For others, the perplexing thing may be the idea of a “common good”. In our current climate of polarized, indeed Balkanized politics, it seems that few people are talking about a “common good”–policies and community practices where both responsibility and benefit are shared by all constituents to a significant degree.

Charles Gutenson, in a book written during the debates on the Affordable Care Act proposes an approach by which Christians may advance proposals informed by their faith that genuinely advance the common good, not just their own. He argues that one gets there by reading the whole Bible to discover God’s intentions for how a people are to live together, not simply the few “government passages” (Romans 13 and Luke 20 in particular) that Christians often reference as the beginning and end of their political philosophy. He contends that this teaching is not to be woodenly applied in a context very different from the biblical one. And he proposes that the life and ministry of Jesus is the definitive expression of how the Triune God would have us live in imitation of him.

He follows these foundational claims with an extensive survey of scriptures from both the Old and New Testament concerning everything from Jubilee and gleaning laws to the continued protection of widows and orphans in the life of the church. A basic thread is a loving concern for the needy among us. It seemed to me that 2 Corinthians 8:13-15 was a particular “control text” for the approach he advocates:

“Our desire is not that others might be relieved while you are hard pressed, but that there might be equality. At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. The goal is equality, as it is written: ‘The one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little.’ ” (NIV)

He contends that it is not enough that the church act along these lines but that this is also a good principle to inform public policy. Often, he argues, private means are simply not sufficient to address the scope of public need, as important as private efforts are.

With this in mind, he thinks the following policies are in line with a biblically-informed concern for the common good: safety nets like unemployment, certain forms of welfare and Medicaid, a progressive (rather than regressive) tax structure, an honest reckoning with the issues of race and protections from racial discrimination, Social Security and Medicare safeguards to care for our elderly, minimum wages that provide a living wage, or absent that, tax breaks that recognize the benefits others enjoy by keeping wages low, earned income credits, access to health care, estate and inheritance taxes, bankruptcy laws, anti-monopoly laws, efforts to strengthen families, and addressing global poverty.

Clearly, Gutenson advocates what would be a “left of center” social policy and he admits as much. He takes a muted approach to the “culture war” issues of homosexuality and abortion. The strength of his case is the argument that a flourishing society seeks the flourishing of all, and not just some, of its people. It looks out not only for one’s own interests but also the interests of others (Philippians 2:4). It recognizes the role that the public power of government may play when the private power of some interests gains benefits at the expense of others, especially those on the margins.

What troubles me is that while the author welcomes more conservative voices and recognizes that solutions to our pressing social problems will require a degree of collaboration absent at present, he is decidedly silent on some issues that I think require attention, such as the recognition of the deep injustice we commit against our children when we consistently ask the government to spend more for the services we want than we are willing to pay, leaving the debts to those who come after us. Also, redistribution of resources via taxation can help or hurt the poor. Why not for example provide tax incentives to companies who offer living rather than minimum wages? I’m troubled that some of these proposals go beyond emergency relief (such as unemployment benefits) to ongoing relief rather than economic opportunity fueled by economic development.

Nor does he say anything about fundamental electoral reform including re-districting reform and campaign finance reform. As it stands now, most elected officials in state and federal government do not have to be concerned about “the common good” because of the way their districts are drawn. And this further marginalizes people by race and economic status. The rich are basically able to buy their office, or that of those who protect their interests.

Where Gutenson’s voice is welcome is in its clarion call for Christians to pursue the common good, and to wrestle with the “whole counsel of God” on these matters to gain God’s heart for the common, and not just our own good. This can be helpful for thoughtful Christians wrestling with the role of Christians in public life, who want to go beyond proof texts and political pundits to constructive engagement.

 

Thank You, Elbridge Gerry!

Elbridge Gerry

Elbridge Gerry

Now that the shutdown appears to be coming to an end (at least for 90 days), we have to wonder how we got this series of legislative stalemates. Turns out, according to an NBC News story, we can thank Massachusetts governor Elbridge Gerry who, in 1812 drew a congressional district to secure his party’s election that looked like a salamander–hence gerrymandering.

This is the practice that both parties have used to their advantage, and particularly House Republicans.  In 1995, 79 Republicans represented districts won by President Clinton.  Today, only 17 districts that supported President Obama in the last election are represented by Republicans.  Districts are drawn in all sorts of bizarre shapes that in no way reflect the settlement patterns of our country–only voting patterns by party.  This allows for those in the political extremes, right and left, to dominate because they have a more or less assured base.

Local officials have to serve diverse populations of citizens in their municipalities.  In fact, in our city, the city council members are all “at large” which means all of them have to consider the interests of the whole city of Columbus, about as diverse politically as the state of Ohio.  Columbus city government works about as well as any government I have seen–not perfect but problems get tackled, agreements are struck, and the city, which is financially in good shape, moves forward. City leaders have to be elected by broader constituencies and so one never seems the appeals to political bases that you see in federal politics.

It could be different. Districts could be drawn to reflect the geography and settlement patterns of states and in ways where diverse classes and economic interests are represented in the same district rather than pitted against each other.  I am in the 12th congressional district of Ohio represented by a Republican, Pat Tiberi.  The district consists of  suburban Columbus, suburbs around Columbus and rural, basically Republican strongholds, including Delaware, Ohio, which many think elected George Bush in 2004.  People living within 2 miles of us in the city of Columbus are in a different district while residents of Zanesville, 40 plus miles away, and Mansfield, over 50 miles away are part of our district.  Does this make any sense?

Ohio attempted to pass a redistricting reform ballot initiative in 2012.  It was defeated, and a lot of money was spent by the anti-redistricting interests in the process.  Now it seems the only talk about reform is for stricter, anti-fraud measures which many suggest hit urban minority voters heaviest. Sadly, it appears to me that Ohio’s contribution to our political morass is simply “more of the same.” Even if we “vote the bums out”, without redistricting reform, I think we will just get more of the same.  Thank you, Elbridge Gerry!